


Nothing is true. Everything is permitted.

by Virlatta



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Everything is Permitted, Hannibal is fucking with Will's brain, M/M, Murder Husbands, Nothing is true, Post-Season/Series 03, Psychoanalysis, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-04 00:03:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17887697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Virlatta/pseuds/Virlatta
Summary: Hi y'all! This beautiful piece of fiction was written by one of my closest friends, and she was curious about your thoughts!It's her first fanfic as well; I'll pass on anything you have to say, every kudo, every comment.I slightly helped. Just slightly, so no kudos for me!





	Nothing is true. Everything is permitted.

Walking inside the office, Will’s nostrils were welcomed with a smell of paper and wood with a dash of subtle, but masculine cologne. It could, maybe, take him some time to get used to this place again, even though he has, in fact, never been in this location before. His eyes, emphasized by dark circles, were almost immediately drawn to the two chairs facing each other at the centre of the room. Will winced at the flashbacks creeping up the back of his head. It is all familiar, almost too familiar for his worn down psyche.

"Don’t you ever get bored by this setting? It makes me sick,” he said with a characteristic grimace on his face. He was speaking to the man who was closing the door behind them.

"You’ve never been a man of change, Will,” Hannibal responded, hanging his coat up on the hanger. 

Will turned to him, face contorted "How do _you_ know what kind of a man I am?” His tone was sarcastic when he felt anxious.

Hannibal's pale but genuine smile was enough to melt down Will’s defensive walls. "I don’t. But I’m excited to get to know him.” 

"I’m just having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that what people have been saying is actually true,” Will confessed, slightly bewildered. He was avoiding Hannibal's gaze, taking his chance at accepting the uncomfortable reality. 

The attentive eyes of the psychiatrist observed Will for a moment. It was _so_ easy to get him to open up these days. 

A sign of trust, or maybe naivety.

"The Truth is a subjective statement. It is only natural for a predator to feel alienated and discriminated in a reality created by its quarry. It would be vital for you to acquire a fresh approach to your morality. It is definitely freeing." Hannibal's expression was neutral, factual. He passed Will, as if not seeing him, lost in his familiar terminology. "If not cathartic.” 

That sounded like an afterthought to Will. "And what approach would that be?” He eyed Hannibal from the corner of his eye; he sounded like he was mocking him in a way, but Hannibal knew he was curious about the answer.

Hannibal walked up to Will; and it took him only several steps to do so. Hannibal looked him in the eye from a distance comfortable to only one of them, but Will was not running away. Instead, Will raised his chin, almost proudly but uncertain, still. 

Hannibal looked down at his face, satisfied. He got lost in Will's frown, in the defiance of his lips. "Disown your own morality, Will. But keep it close, like a trophy mounted on a wall. Remember: Nothing is true. Everything is permitted.”


End file.
